At Memory Knoll
by Maya-roo
Summary: Randall has a bit of secret that he simply can't keep to himself.


**A/N: wooo, second story, same pairing! xD I don't own professor layton or the characters used in this story. hope you enjoy. c:**

I looked out the window, letting out an uncharacteristic sigh. It was a sunny Saturday morning, right around the time I would usually have breakfast, but today was different. There would be no rushed breakfast, there would be no snooping around the Norwell wall, there would be no messing around. Not today, at least.  
I walked up to my bedroom door, and opened it slowly in an attempt to keep quiet. It wasn't as if I wasn't allowed out of the house, but for some reason I felt the need to be stealthy. The door closed behind me with a soft squeak, almost making me jump. _This is riddiculous,_ I thought. _I shouldn't be so weary!_

But even so, I made my steps lighter so the sound of my exit wouldn't echo throughout the large house. I finally felt my hands grip the cold, golden door handle. I paused for a moment before pushing open the door. I looked around, taking note that it was a perfect, sunny day. It wasn't exactly cool, but I could feel a breeze against my cheek. I then set out towards the tree near Memory Knoll, a small smile on my face.

I was now a few feet away from the tree. It was a funny looking tree with a tilted angle and tangled roots, but I, along with a lot of people in this town, had fond memories of the tree, so it had never been cut down. And I was thankful for that, because right now this tree was a comfort, a bit of an old friend, something that I knew would support me. And right now, I needed that tiny ounce of support, even if it was from, well, a plant.

I stared up at the tree, wondering if any birds had made their nest's up in it's old branches, when I heard a voice calling my name.  
"Hey, Randall! I'm here!" I turned to see my best friend, Hershel, run up to me. He slowed down, not even looking the slightest bit exhausted, and looked at me. "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"  
The day before I had told Hershel to meet me at Memory Knoll early in the morning with bright, confident eyes. But all that confidence had gone down the drain during the night. Why did I think this was a good idea?

"Randall, are you alright...?" Hershel questioned, some concern in his gaze. I hadn't realized my expression had gotten so serious. "Yes, yes, just fine. I guess," I added, with a hint of doubt. Maybe Hershel would just go back to his house or something, so I could think this through a bit more. "Okay, what's on your mind? Come on, I skipped breakfast for this!"  
I felt a twinge of guilt in my stomach. I couldn't just tell him 'Oh, nevermind!' and be done with this. This boy had _skipped his breakfast_ for me.

I rested my hand on the bark of the old tree, feeling some courage fill up within me. I could do this. I can't just lie to Hershel the rest of my life. But then again, I wasn't lying, I just was...  
_Stop this nonsense, Randall! You're procrastinating,_ I told myself. _Let's get this over with!_

"...I'm gay..." I said, a bit nervously than I had expected. Although I was afraid of Hershel's reaction, I felt a whole lot better. Another thing off my chest.  
Hershel didn't seem surprised, although he probably was shocked on the inside. "But, what about Angela...?"  
I looked at my feet, feeling a bit ashamed. "Haven't told her," I mumbled quietly.  
"Well, you should definitely have told her first!" Hershel said, his voice firm but not exactly scolding. "I told you before anyone else, Hershel. And I've got a reason for that," I said, slowly pulling my hand off the memorable tree.

He looked at me with a definite curiosity. He looked at me expectantly.  
"I told you first because you're responsible for me finding this out. About my sexuality, I mean," I told him, forcing myself to look him straight in the eye. It's rude to talk to someone while looking away from them, I had been taught. "What I'm trying to say is, well, I like you, Hershel. I like you quite a bit. I... Uhm..." Why couldn't I spit it out? I have said these three important, delicate words to Angela and to my family many times before.  
"I guess you could say I love you."  
There, another thing off my chest. Hershel would probably move away to some far away town and never talk to me again, but I had made some progress, and I have to say I was a bit proud of myself.

I examined Hershel's face, trying to find out what he was thinking and feeling. One thing was for sure, this boy was not an open book. Was he angry? Shocked? Horrified? All three?  
He grabbed my shoulder with a surprisingly gentle grip. And then, with a small smile, he said,

"I'm willing to try new things."


End file.
